


Crossroads

by moorehawke



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Gen, Identity Reveal, ectober week falls on my final high school exams this year so i decided to post this instead, ectoberweek 2017, except not really, not explicitly violent but there are injuries and there is some spooky shit going on here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-15 15:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12323661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moorehawke/pseuds/moorehawke
Summary: “Holyshit.”A voice stopped him dead. Danny whipped round.At the end of the alley, Dash Baxter was standing, leaning away from Danny like he’d just seen a ghost.Haha,Danny deadpanned to himself.Really not the best time for puns.Dash was blinking as if dazed. There was a drawn-out moment of complete silence, neither party moving.“You’re the ghost kid.”





	1. Black Cat

Halfway through patrol, an eerie glow coming out of an alleyway caught his eye, and he swooped down to take a closer look. As his feet touched the ground, a low growl echoed across the uneven brickwork, and rounding a corner he saw its source; a huge, glowing-green dog, probably bigger than a bear, if he’d ever seen a bear for comparison. It was facing away from him and into the back wall of the alley. Its shoulders, jutting up above a wide, bony ribcage, jerked up and down as it panted. Its tail whipped back and forth slowly and deliberately, in a way that could only be described as menacing.

Danny reached a hand to his hip, where the Fenton Thermos was connected onto his belt, and unclipped it quietly. The dog still hadn’t heard him. Unaware of the halfa’s presence, it let out another growl, and earned one back in response; higher-pitched and smaller. A second ghost? Danny couldn’t see past the hulking green figure.

The dog growled again, louder, and snapped its head forward as Danny fiddled with the Thermos settings. This time the second creature yowled loudly. The dog’s tail was now swishing back and forth rapidly and as Danny opened the thermos, it _lunged-_

Before its momentum stopped dead and reversed just as quickly, sucked into the thermos, which shut with a click. Danny grinned in the newly darkened alley. Towards the back wall, something hissed.

Whatever it was wasn’t a ghost, that was for sure - it didn’t even glow. Two eyes reflected Danny’s own eerie halo back to him, but the creature’s silhouette was shrouded in shadow. Kicking off the ground and floating further into the gloom, Danny let his aura illuminate the small, hunched animal pressed against the back wall.

The cat’s eyes were wide and vividly green against its fluffed-up black fur, and it hissed again as he approached, baring needle-like teeth. Back arched and tail fluffed out, it leaned back into the brickwork, claws digging into the concrete. Blood leaked from a nasty-looking bite in one of its back legs, matting the thick fur.

“Hey there, kitty.” Danny touched his feet back to the ground and crouched down, stretching out his hand. “Where’d you come from?” The cat glared and let out a warning growl. Danny blinked slowly and let his shoulders relax, trying to appear less threatening, but it didn’t seem to help. The cat’s eyes gleamed with reflected light, and it hissed again.

Spooked by his appearance. It was nothing new - most animals hated him in ghost form. But with a bite as serious as that, the cat wouldn’t be able to get back home on its own. Danny could see it trying to disguise the fact that it wasn’t putting any weight on that paw.

Looking closer, Danny noticed something shining at the cat’s neck. A collar with a phone number and address engraved on it. _Bingo._ “C’mere, kitty,” he said, reaching for the tag. The cat pressed itself further into the wall and spat, slashing out with claws that shredded his glove and raked the back of Danny’s hand. Danny pulled his fingers back sharply.

Nothing for it, then. He was carrying this cat home human-style. Danny let go of his transformation and two bands of white light arced around him, crackling through his hair and leaving a metallic taste in his mouth. The cat stared, but stopped hissing. Its ears pricked forward slightly. Now fully human, Danny reached out to it a second time.

“Holy _shit.”_ A voice stopped him dead. Danny whipped round.

At the end of the alley, Dash Baxter was standing, leaning away from Danny like he’d just seen a ghost. Haha, Danny deadpanned to himself. Really not the best time for puns.  
Dash was blinking as if dazed. There was a drawn-out moment of complete silence, neither party moving.

_“You’re the ghost kid.”_

Those words snapped through Danny’s head, and he jumped into motion. “No, Dash, I- I’m not, I swear I can explain- just- _wait-!”_ But Dash had already sprinted off down the street and out of view. Rushing out onto the footpath, Danny could see him hightailing it towards his house. He’d get there before Danny could catch him, even with his advanced speed. _Fuck._

Danny felt something rub at his ankles, and he looked down to see the cat pressing itself against his leg, paw still held awkwardly out behind it. “You’re gonna get bloodstains on my trousers.” Danny told it irritably. It purred at him, perfectly content now that he was human. “Don’t act so happy.” He scowled. “This is totally your fault.”

 

* * *

 

Travelling back across town took a while on foot, and without the dulled sense of temperature his ghost form lent him Danny found himself fighting off a harsh chill as the wind whistled incessantly down Amity Park’s deserted main streets. The moon was directly overhead by the time he finally tracked down the house that matched the address on Laika’s collar.

Laika was what he’d named the cat. The collar actually said ‘K8tlyn’, but Danny had decided that calling her that was probably some sort of animal abuse. Now removed from any form of ghost activity, she was a content little space heater in his arms, staining his shirt with blood from her now-almost-sealed leg wound and purring all the while.

Laika’s flat was on the third floor of a gloomy apartment building on the northern edge of town, opposite a run-down video game store and a greengrocer’s with a sign saying ‘Best Apples In Illinois!’ in cheery, peeling paint on the window. With one arm full of cat and the other gripping the steel railing, Danny climbed the external fire escape and found an open window.

“This your place, buddy?” He asked Laika. The cat trilled at him happily. Danny set her down softly on the windowsill, mindful of her injured leg, and scratched her gently around her ears. Laika purred for a few seconds before turning to limp onto a desk by the window and disappear into the house. Danny moved back to the side of the building, transformed, and flew off.

Now without a cat to keep him preoccupied, Danny’s stomach felt heavy with dread. Dash had _seen him,_ and he wasn’t going to be able to just ignore that. He considered phasing into Dash’s house to confront him now, but it was so late he’d probably just end up spooking him and waking up his whole family.

But if Dash told anyone… if Danny’s parents found out he was Phantom, they wouldn’t see him as a person anymore. He’d be a ghost impersonating their dead son, and then he’d be _dissected._

That was not a future he liked the look of.

Danny finished his patrol distractedly, swooping in errant loops over Amity Park’s main streets before turning back home. In the middle of summer, nights were short, and a faint orange glow was already starting to creep across the horizon. It was a school night. He’d see Dash tomorrow, and maybe he’d be able to contain this mess before it got out.

Danny yawned as he phased through his bedroom window and detransformed, falling face-first onto his bed and kicking his shoes off. An exhausted glance at the clock by his bed told him he had three hours to catch some sleep before he needed to get ready for school.

Whatever plan he’d need to confront Dash, it could wait until then.

 

* * *

 

Dash barely held himself back from slamming the front door behind him, turning the lock with shaking fingers before sprinting to his room. His parents were dead asleep, so he didn’t worry about the creak of his bedroom door as he made a beeline for his window and bolted it shut.

_As if that’ll keep him out._

Dash dug his mobile out of his jeans pocket and speed dialled Kwan. The phone only rang twice before going straight to voicemail.

_“Hi, this is Kwan, leave a message!”_

“Kwan, it’s-” Dash cut his message off suddenly.

He was an idiot. He’d just seen a ghost and he was doing the one thing he was pretty sure it didn’t want him to do. “…Nevermind, I’ll call you back.” He hung up.  
Shit. _Shitshitshitshitshit._ This was really, really bad.

 

* * *

 

On the other side of Amity Park, white silk stirred dust in an abandoned house. Behind glassless, gaping windows, a figure moved slowly in the blackness. A long, lace dress fell from skeletal, shifting shoulders, and a lace-edged veil covered her face. Rising up from the gaps in the floor, she began to pace, back and forth across the chilled room, wearing deadened tracks into the rotting floorboards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is something I've been humming over for ages now, and I thought I'd finally post it this October! Ectober week falls right on the final week before my final school exams, so I can't afford to let myself get distracted by making new content or even posting stuff I already have set up that close to exams. That's why this is so early. The story is based on the prompts from Ectober 2015, but multiple chapters are merged together here - this is Days 1 and 2, Black Cat and Midnight.  
> I was really happy with how this has turned out - I swear I've edited it like 50 times - so I hope you guys enjoy! If you do, please take the time to leave kudos or even comment. It really means the world.


	2. Skeletons (in the Closet)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Paulina!” Sam called out. Paulina looked up from her phone mid-text, surprise quickly replaced by disgust when she realised who'd spoken to her. 
> 
> “What do _you _want?” She sneered. “If you’re looking for the latest style, I’m afraid it’s too late for your sorry goth ass.”__
> 
> __Sam threw her shoulders back and glared. “As if I’d take fashion tips from a-”_ _
> 
> __“Whoa, hey!” Danny interceded quickly._ _

Danny’s usual walk into school was marred by anxiety. Every look in his direction felt like an accusation, every glance an attack. He was coiled tighter than a spring by the time he made it to his locker.  
  
He had a plan, of course. A whole script he’d run through in his head over and over on his way to the front doors. As much of a bully as Dash was, he’d never willingly cause someone’s death. Danny was fairly sure he could convince him to stay quiet if he explained what was at stake.  
  
And if he’d misjudged this, he’d be outed as the Phantom of Amity Park to everyone, including his family, and most likely be torn apart by his own parents.  
  
_No pressure._  
  
“Danny! Hey!” Tucker had his hand raised in greeting as he pushed his way through a mob of freshman and ambled up to his locker. “You pumped for Taco Tuesday? Man, I can’t wait for lunch. You remember last week when the lunch lady-” Tucker paused when Danny made eye contact. Seeing the look on Danny’s face, he sobered up instantly. “What’s going on?”  
  
“Dash.” Danny said gravely. “I’ll tell you about it at lunch, but I’ve gotta catch him before class starts. Can you and Sam cover for me with Lancer?”  
  
Tucker nodded and put his hand on Danny’s shoulder. “We got this. See you in class.” He disappeared into the crowd. Danny gave him a halfhearted grin as he left.  
  
Turning his lock’s combination, Danny scanned the crowd that passed him for any sign of Dash. Pretty soon the hallway started to empty out as students made their way to class, and he was left the only one standing in the deserted hall, his locker still open and backpack hanging loosely off one shoulder. His right hand was clenched into a nervous, shaking fist by his thigh, and he forced it to relax.  
  
He was almost starting to think Dash just wasn’t coming to school, and had just dropped his bag off his shoulder to stuff into his locker, when he heard the school’s sliding doors swish open, chased by a gust of cold air that whistled harshly down the corridor from the freezing carpark outside. Danny looked to his left past the locker door to see Dash, shoulders hunched, hands gripping the straps of his backpack. Dark circles bruised the usually clear skin under his eyes, which were darting back and forth as if searching for an escape. It was clear that he hadn’t slept since his encounter with Danny last night.  
  
The two locked eyes and froze.  
  
The hallway was empty. Doors lined the corridor, hidden behind lockers, but all of them were shut and the hum of class emanated from behind them. The chances of anyone leaving a lesson so soon after it started were slim. CCTV was shot; had been for months, everyone knew that.  
  
Whatever was about to happen, there would be no witnesses. On the upside, this meant Danny didn’t have to worry about anyone overhearing their conversation. On the downside, it raised the stakes. If Dash felt threatened, he’d scream, and his word against the school loser’s? Danny didn’t have a hope in hell of avoiding exposure.  
  
“Dash-” he started, closing his locker door and taking a step forward, but Dash turned and bolted. Casper High’s track star sprinted out the door and down the stairs of the campus, catching his arm on the sandstone pillar at the start of the footpath and using it to swerve sharply to the right. But even Dash Baxter had nothing on the speed of a half-ghost. Danny caught up to him before he was clear of the school and shoved him awkwardly into the bushes under the first-floor windows. He followed him to kneel on the ground and slapped a hand over Dash’s mouth before he could start yelling. “Shut up!” he hissed. “You’re gonna get me killed.”  
  
Dash’s eyes were wide with incomprehension, and Danny sighed. “My parents. The _ghost hunters?_ You’re a jerk, Dash, but I don’t think you want my _dissection_ on your conscience.”  
  
It took Dash a moment to process this, and his eyes widened impossibly further. His breathing slowed, and Danny cautiously took his hand off his mouth. To his relief, Dash didn’t scream.  
“You haven’t told anyone, have you?”  
  
Dash shook his head quickly.  
  
“Please,” Danny begged, “Forget you saw anything. If my parents find out about this, they’ll shoot first and ask questions later.”  
  
“But Phantom’s _dangerous.”_ Dash said shakily. “He- you attack people. That’s what they say on the news. A malevolent entity.” He paled, eye bags standing in stark contrast to his ashen face. “Oh, god. I’ve beaten you up before. Oh, god, you’re gonna kill me for that, aren’t you, please don’t kill me, I’m sorry I ever called you Fen-turd—” He started to raised his hands in front of his face as if ready to ward off a blow.  
  
“Dash!” Danny grabbed his wrists. “I’m not gonna kill you. Jeez, I’ve been Phantom for almost a year now and I’ve never once even dodged one of your punches. I _fight_ the ghosts that hurt people.” Dash blinked, and Danny huffed his frustration. “Look. I’m not gonna sit in this bush for two hours just to get this through your skull.” Thinking quickly, he came up with a slapdash plan. “Meet us on the basketball court after final bell. I’ll bring Tucker and Sam and we can sort this out properly.”  
  
Despite everything, Dash sneered. “Hanging out with a bunch of losers? I’ve got better things to do with my time.”  
  
Shoving Dash’s wrists back into his face, Danny stood up sharply. “Just be there, Dash. I gotta get to class.” He stalked off, retreating from the frozen air into the heated confines of the school.

 

* * *

 

 ”He _what?”_ Tucker exclaimed around his third taco.  
  
“Saw me.” Danny repeated. “While I was on patrol last night.”  
  
“This is bad,” Sam said. “There’s no way he’s gonna stay quiet. What’s the plan?”  
  
“Actually, he hasn’t told anyone yet.” Danny pulled his shoulders up into an awkward shrug. “I kinda cornered him this morning about it. We gotta meet him this afternoon though. Basketball court, after final bell.”  
  
“Ugh, seriously? You _know_ I have coding club.” Tucker scowled at the remains of his taco before Sam jerked an elbow into his ribs. _“Ow!_ Uh, I mean, of course I can be there,” he said, changing his tune at the sight of her glare.  
  
“And until then?” Sam asked.  
  
“Just… act natural, I guess?” Danny said. “As long as Dash keeps quiet, we’re good. I just hope he can last the day.”

 

* * *

  
  
The rest of the day passed in a blur of tension. When the final bell rang, Danny, Sam, and Tucker got up in unison, shoving their chairs in and hurrying out the door before their maths teacher had even finished explaining the homework.  
  
The basketball court was still clearing out from fifth-period gym when they arrived, but within five minutes it was deserted. It stood against the west wall of the school, with no cover from the menacingly cold wind, and Danny found himself wishing he had a second jumper. Tucker seemed toasty warm under his fleece-lined jacket and scarf, absentmindedly playing Minesweeper on his phone, but Sam was almost blue, with her shuddering arms wrapped tight around herself.  
  
They waited that way for fifteen minutes, Sam eventually stealing Tucker’s scarf and draping it around herself like a shawl. “It’s supposed to be bloody _summer,”_ she hissed through chattering teeth.  
  
By the time the school carpark, on the other side of a chain-link fence, had cleared, Dash was still a no-show.  
  
“Maybe he forgot?” Tucker suggested.  
  
“Somehow I doubt it.” Sam deadpanned back. “He’s probably done a runner.” She looked worried.  
This was their worst case scenario. Dash bolting meant he thought Danny was a threat to him and that he could find safety somewhere else. If he’d run it meant he was almost certain to have told someone.  
  
“So what do we do?”

 

* * *

  
  
The wind bit straight through their clothes as they cycled to Dash’s house - a quaint, two-story home on the southern edge of town. Ditching their bikes by the front porch, they took the steps two at a time and rang the doorbell.  
  
After a couple of seconds they heard movement behind the door and it swung open to reveal a smiling woman in her forties, with blonde hair and eyes just like Dash’s. “Oh!” She said, obviously surprised. “Hello. Can I help you?”  
  
“Mrs Baxter?” Sam said, stepping forward. “I’m Sam, and this is Tucker and Danny. We were wondering if Dash was home? We’re friends of his from school.” She smiled sweetly, and Danny wondered why she wasn’t already signed up for theatre club.  
  
Mrs Baxter broke into a warm smile. “Oh, how lovely!” She said. “Dash doesn’t have that many friends over these days. He works so hard, the poor dear.” Tucker covered his snort of laughter with a cough. “I’m afraid he’s not home right now, though.” Mrs Baxter continued. “I’d assume he’s in the library at school, studying.”  
  
Sam made a show of frowning thoughtfully, and shot a look back at Danny and Tucker. “Thank you very much, Mrs Baxter. We’ll look for him there.”  
  
“Good luck, dears. And stay warm in this chill!” She said. “I’ve never known such cold this late in summer. Be careful you don’t get sick, now.”  
  
“We will,” Danny replied. “Thanks for your help.” He turned and started back down the stairs towards their bikes.  
  
“I hope I’ll see you three around sometime!” Mrs Baxter smiled again as she waved them off.

 

* * *

  
  
The cycle back to school was punctuated by Tucker’s sniggers, which escalated into a full-blown cackle once they were clear of Dash’s house.  
  
“That - was - his - _mom.”_ He wheezed between laughs. “Oh my god, that kid has _got_ to be adopted.”  
  
“I thought she was sweet.” Sam said. “And she obviously has no idea Dash is such a jerk. I kinda feel bad.”  
  
The trip back to the school campus was short, and the three of them tied their bikes to the racks by the front steps. Tucker was halfway to the door, grinning in anticipation of the heating inside, when Danny noticed something odd in the bushes - a flash of bright red. “Hold on a minute, guys.” He reached into the bushes and pulled out Dash’s varsity sweater. Twigs clung to the fabric, which was coated in dust and dirt.  
  
“Dash’s sweater?” Tucker made his way back down the stairs.  
  
“It might not belong to Dash,” Sam pointed out. “Lots of football jocks wear those things.” But Danny had already turned the collar out to reveal a name label, hand-stitched in.  
  
**PROPERTY OF DASH BAXTER.**  
  
“…Okay, so it _is_ Dash’s sweater.” Sam ceded. “What’s it doing in the bushes outside school?”  
  
“This is where I talked to him this morning.” Danny said. “When I told him we should meet on the basketball courts.”  
  
“Any chance he just forgot it?” Tucker asked hopefully.  
  
“No way. It was _freezing_ outside this morning.” Danny turned to the others. “Something’s wrong here.”  
  
The sound of the front door of the school sliding open interrupted Danny’s train of thought, and he looked up to see Paulina making her way down the steps. “Paulina!” Sam called out. Paulina looked up from her phone mid-text, surprise quickly replaced by disgust when she realised who'd spoken to her.  
  
“What do _you_ want?” She sneered. “If you’re looking for the latest style, I’m afraid it’s too late for your sorry goth ass.”  
  
Sam threw her shoulders back and glared. “As if I’d take fashion tips from a-”  
  
“Whoa, hey!” Danny interceded quickly. “Paulina, we’re just looking for Dash. He, uh, asked me to do some homework for him and it’s due tomorrow.”  
  
Paulina’s expression turned thoughtful. “Dash? Haven’t seen him.” She said. “He didn’t show up to class this morning. Isn’t answering his texts, either.”  
  
Danny, Sam, and Tucker exchanged worried looks. “…I guess he must be at home.” Danny said eventually. “Thanks anyway, Paulina.”  
  
“Whatever.” Paulina flicked her hair over her shoulder and unlocked her phone again as she strode off. Sam stared daggers at her receding back.  
  
“So if Dash didn’t make it back to school from these bushes,” Danny mused aloud, “what the hell happened to him?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The themes for this chapter are Skeletons and Crossroads. Thank you so much to everyone who's left kudos and especially to katvara for your comment!  
> Dialogue is definitely not my strong suit, so any constructive criticism is appreciated.


	3. Woman in White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Danny,” he said, “your, uh, your shirt-”
> 
> “Huh?” Danny looked down to find his shirt flickering wildly, replaced by his ghost suit. It looked like a glitch in reality, and Danny averted his eyes for a couple of seconds, struck by the _wrongness _of it. He raised his hands to his face and found they’d acquired an eerie backlight. He could just make out the outlines of tree roots through his palms.__
> 
> __“That is definitely not supposed to happen.” Sam observed._ _

Seated- no, slumped- against once-brittle bark now soft with mould. The wood under his fingers was swollen with water and warped unevenly. He couldn’t see; swirls of white and green shifted in his vision. His head ached.  
  
He felt more than heard the footsteps making their way toward him. One, two, three, four… at five, his head felt like it might split, and his mind was besieged by a mismatched jumble of images. There he was riding a bike the first time. His tenth birthday, when he’d fallen and smashed his tooth. His second day of high school, when the teacher recommended he joined the track team.  
Six, seven… the texture of the wood under his fingers disappeared as his body started to go numb.  He was so, so cold.  
  
Eight, nine… the images raced, unintelligible in their speed, and he felt a heart-wrenching sense of _loss._  
  
Ten… a little bit of him slipped away.  
  
Eleven… nothing.

 

* * *

 

The Fenton Ecto-Tracker was one of their newer and admittedly dodgier inventions, but it was by far the easiest to swipe from the lab. Outside on the footpath, Sam held Dash’s sweater up and Tucker held the black box to its fabric. Like a Geiger counter, the Ecto-Tracker started to click wildly, filling the air with the sound of static.  
  
“So, it’s definitely ghost-related.” Danny said grimly. “How do we figure out where it took him?”

“I can use my phone to isolate the ectoplasmic signature on the sweater and reroute it through some sort of EM dish to-”  
  
_“Or,”_ Sam cut over Tucker easily, “we could just follow that.” She pointed to the end of the high street. The street itself split into a perpendicular road that ran along the edge of town, but beyond the tarmac was the Amityville Parkland Reserve. The local government had given up trying to tame the unnaturally fast forest growth several years ago and let it condense into a thick stretch of woodland. Danny could see a faint, eerie glow emanating from within the forest, at times almost seeming to turn the trees themselves translucent. The long shadows reaching out from the treeline were stained with ectoplasmic green.  
  
“…Yeah. Yeah. Uh, that works too.” Tucker put his phone back in his pocket sheepishly. In his other hand, the Ecto-Tracker kept ticking slowly.

 

* * *

  
  
They ditched their bikes at the treeline, pushing through thick undergrowth on foot as the green shadows engulfed them. The source of the glow was still a few hundred metres ahead, but through the glass-like, flickering tree trunks Danny could already make out the faint shape of a building. “You guys see that?” he asked.  
  
“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “Maybe a hunting lodge?”  
  
Danny shrugged, and they continued on.  
  
The Ecto-Tracker’s clicks were getting closer and closer together, transforming from a metronome to a constant buzz of static. Tucker looked down at it nervously. The air was frozen, and Danny could see his breath swirl in front of him as he walked. Under Tucker’s stolen scarf, Sam had started to shiver again.  
  
By the time they reached the hunting lodge, they’d realised it wasn’t a hunting lodge at all. A sign outside the front door proclaimed in cheery, faded letters that _You’re in Amity Park Reserve! Welcome!_. A cartoon of a smiling bear in a scout’s uniform was giving them a thumbs up. Behind it, a wooden shack with a sign saying ‘gift shop’ above the door glowed with ectoplasmic light. The trio crept past the sign and moved to the side of the building. The gift shop’s glow struck harsh shadows across their faces. The Ecto-Tracker escalated violently, and Tucker eventually clicked it off. The buzz of static was replaced by an unnatural silence.  
  
“I remember this place,” Tucker whispered. “Dad and I used to come here for walks when I was really little. It got shut down after a bear attack, maybe, four years ago now?” Looking over at Danny, he suddenly started. “Danny,” he said, “your, uh, your shirt-”  
  
“Huh?” Danny looked down to find his shirt flickering wildly, replaced by his ghost suit. It looked like a glitch in reality, and Danny averted his eyes for a couple of seconds, struck by the _wrongness_ of it. He raised his hands to his face and found they’d acquired an eerie backlight. He could just make out the outlines of tree roots through his palms.  
  
“That is definitely not supposed to happen.” Sam observed.  
  
Danny closed his eyes and willed himself into ghost form, feeling the rings of light cut across his body and bring an unnatural heat to his fingers and toes.  
  
“Aw, man, warn a guy next time!” Tucker complained, jumping back and running his hands down his jumper, which crackled with static. “Now this thing’s gonna be shocking me for the next hour!”  
  
“Sorry.” Danny said.  
  
Now that he was in ghost form, he felt a lot more stable. His shirt stopped flickering and his hands looked more solid. But something still felt… _off._ He felt sluggish and off balance, and his stomach cramped like he hadn’t eaten in days. He clutched at his suit with one hand and braced the other against the wooden wall of the shack before shaking his head to clear it and straightening back up.  
  
Sam was busy observing the bark-covered logs that made up the shack walls. Danny followed her gaze and saw faint outlines through the bark. The interior of the shack. The edges of the floor and walls were clear, but there was a mess of shapes in the far corner that didn’t make much sense. Tapping into the chill of his ghost core, Danny let it pour into his eyes, enhancing his vision.  
  
Dash was slumped against the wall of the shack, eyes closed but still breathing. Beside him sat Kwan, also out cold. Both looked half-starved and deathly pale. And suddenly snapping into focus, a third figure appeared, pacing back and forth across the floor. Danny immediately phased into invisibility. The figure kept pacing. It hadn’t seen him.  
  
“Dude, what?” Tucker hissed, staring blindly to where Danny had last stood.  
  
“Ghost.” Danny whispered. “Get down!” Tucker’s eyes widened in comprehension and he nodded, crouching down until his head was below level with the floorboards of the shack. Next to him, Sam followed suit.  
  
“Did it see us?” She asked. Danny shook his head, offering a hushed ‘no’ when he remembered his friends couldn’t see the gesture. Peering back through the fragmented, warped layers of the shack’s walls, he could see it - her - make her way slowly and deliberately over to the wall where Dash and Kwan sat. Under her feet, the rotting floorboards were already developing grooves where she stepped. Danny could see blackened, dead veins of moss and fungus marbling the interior of the wood. As she neared Dash and Kwan, their faces seemed to sink even further in on themselves, losing weight even as he watched. Their cheekbones jutted out from under sunken eyes, lips thin and pale.  
  
“She’s… taking their energy somehow,” Danny muttered from where he now floated in place, level with the raised floor of the shack. “We need to get then out of there. A few more rounds and they’re done for.”  
  
Lowering himself to the ground and phasing back into visibility, he motioned at Sam and Tucker to follow and made his way up the stairs at the front of the shack to the chipped-white door. Gloved hand on the doorknob and still crouched to at least avoid the glass in the top half of the door, he turned to the other two and drafted a plan. “You two get Kwan and Dash, I’ll get her in a thermos.” The typical strategy, but it hadn’t failed them yet. “Three, two, one-“ He snapped his fingers to generate an ecto-blast and threw the door to the shack open.

 

* * *

 

 

The veiled woman stopped mid-stride, head snapping round to face them. It wasn’t even a solid movement, but simply that one instant she was looking at the ground, the next straight through him. Caught by her glare, Danny found himself frozen as Tucker and Sam rushed in behind him and made a beeline for Dash and Kwan. He heard a thump and a ‘wow, he’s light’ from Sam, but couldn’t even move his eyes away from the hooded figure to check their progress. His arms felt like they were made of lead. A low thrum echoed through the room, just out of the range of human hearing, vibrating his core and rattling against his ribs. The crackling green ball of energy died in his palm. His stomach protested at what suddenly felt like days without food.  
  
This was really bad.  
  
The unsettling hum in his ribs started to pitch higher, rattling his teeth and buzzing through his skull. The white silhouette in front of him wasn’t outlined with the green halo most ghosts threw off, instead reflecting his own aura back to him. Behind her, the rough wooden walls seemed to melt, wavering and flickering with ghostly light. She tilted sideways, or maybe Danny did, he wasn’t sure. There were black spots in his vision.  
  
Fumbling with his thermos, Danny flicked the lid open blindly, thrusting his arm towards the figure and pressing the button on the side. The vivid blue beam of light that shot out went straight through the ghost’s chest and hit the wall behind her without rebounding.  
  
Shit.  
  
Behind him, Sam and Tucker had made it to the door, and he could hear Kwan’s feet bumping on the steps as if through two metres of water. His legs gave out and he fell to his knees, the impact sending a muffled jolt through him. He had just enough presence of mind to close the lid of the Thermos before he collapsed completely. The moth-eaten hem of the ghost’s dress occupied his line of sight, tilted wildly to the left. The hum in his chest was even higher now, well into the range of human hearing, and he was sure his eardrums were going to burst. His core was becoming more unstable under the incessant sound, and in his peripheral vision he could just see the tips of his fingers start to blur and lose their form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second last chapter, and getting spooky! The themes for this one are Woman in White and Insects, though I decided to ignore the latter to keep the story on the track I wanted it to follow.  
> Thank you for all the kudos and comments! They mean so much :)


	4. Full Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the floor inside, a figure was slumped barely a meter from where the woman was pacing. The jet-black jumpsuit and ivory hair told Dash slowly that it was Fenton in ghost form. The ghostly glow that usually blazed around him was almost blinding. As he watched, the woman passed by him again, and almost seemed to drag at him, his image shifting towards her and stretching as if he was siphoning off his energy. By the time she’d moved away again, his aura was even brighter, and Dash could see his bones jut out from under his jumpsuit.
> 
> More ghost, less human. This was what the woman did, Dash realised. Stole human energy. And Danny had less to give than anyone else.

Dash woke to the sound of frantic yelling somewhere to his right. It took him a couple of seconds to remember how to lift his eyelids, but when he did he could see Sam Manson and Tucker Foley silhouetted against a backdrop of brilliant green.  
  
The lady in white. That was the last thing he remembered. After Fenton had stalked off that morning, he’d been picking his way out of the bushes when suddenly everything had blurred and tilted, as if he was on the verge of passing out, and instead of being outside school he was in a wooden shack and she was pacing towards him. And then she had gotten close, and he’d felt so cold, and so hungry, and so _sad_ , and then- nothing. Dash looked over to his left and saw Kwan slumped there, listless and grey. In a moment of panic Dash thought he might be dead, but then he lifted leaden fingers to his friend’s ice-cold throat and found a pulse, weak but steady. He’d already been there when Dash had arrived, was already stick-thin before Dash blacked out. He must’ve been taken the night before, maybe even earlier. There was a ringing in Dash’s ears, and he shook his head to clear it, but it persisted.  
  
Manson and Foley were getting more insistent, but Dash couldn’t make out the words through the stifling blanket of sound covering the forest. Lurching forwards, he stumbled to his feet, making his way to the wooden steps and following their line of sight into the shack.  
  
There was a crackling, invisible barrier strung across the door, and Dash knew instinctively that moving through it was a bad idea. Manson was holding her hand to her chest, still yelling garbled nonsense, and Dash could see it was shaking and grey. Looked like they’d learned by trial and error. His head felt so light and so heavy at the same time. He grabbed a hold of the railing by the steps and used it to steady himself.   
  
On the floor inside, a figure was slumped barely a meter from where the woman was pacing. The jet-black jumpsuit and ivory hair told Dash slowly that it was Fenton in ghost form. The ghostly glow that usually blazed around him was almost blinding. As he watched, the woman passed by him again, and almost seemed to drag at him, his image shifting towards her and stretching as if he was siphoning off his energy. By the time she’d moved away again, his aura was even brighter, and Dash could see his bones jut out from under his jumpsuit.  
  
More ghost, less human. This was what the woman did, Dash realised. Stole human energy. And Danny had less to give than anyone else.  
  
The woman looked at him, and Dash felt a chill run down his spine, but nothing else. He was tired, and he was hungry, but he was also no worse than he had been when he woke up. _She’s got a limited range,_ he thought to himself absently. A limited range and a set path. He wondered…  
  
Something in his mind snapped into focus and Dash realised all at once what had to happen. The ringing in his ears was reaching an unbearable pitch, and he resisted the urge to put his hands over them to try and stop the sound. He took a few steps back and touched a hand to the ground.   
  
“Get out of the way,” he said hoarsely. Manson and Foley looked around at him, startled, and shifted out of his path without argument. Dash spared a glance for Kwan, who was still unconscious and slumped against a supporting post. If he’d called him last night, he would have known. If he’d just been a little braver, just trusted that Fenton wouldn’t kill him for talking…  
  
 _Fenton would be in a lab somewhere and she would have taken someone else,_ his brain supplied. Now was not the time for philosophical ramblings. Dash planted his feet square, leaned forward, and took off, clearing the steps in a single jump and crashing through the barrier behind the door.  
  
The effect was instantaneous. Dash felt his body fatigue as if he’d aged sixty years in three seconds. Suddenly his shirt was two sizes too big. He felt light and dizzy. When he took his next step, jumping over Fenton, he was fairly sure he felt the bones in his shins splinter.  
  
He crashed into the woman in white and it felt like he was frozen in ice and being electrocuted all at once. His momentum knocked her off her feet and to the ground a couple of feet from her path. The ringing in Dash’s ears hit an unbearable pitch, and his vision started to go white, and then-  
  
Everything-  
  
Stopped.

 

* * *

  
  
Danny woke to Tucker shaking his shoulder and the feeling that he hadn’t eaten in months. When he opened his eyes they were met with a blinding white glow that he quickly realised was coming from his hands. He pushed himself up shakily into a sitting position.  
  
A couple of meters away, and on the other side of a bone-white line of petrified wood, Sam was helping an emaciated Dash to his feet. Next to them, a black scorch mark was all that was left of the woman in white.  
  
“Where the hell am I?” the football star groaned, holding his head. He caught sight of Danny.   
  
“Oh shit,” he said faintly. “The ghost kid.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Extreme dehydration, starvation, one burst eardrum, fractures in the wrists, shins, and ribs, and mild amnesia._ Those were the official diagnoses Tucker and Sam dutifully relayed back to Danny via text. Kwan was far better off, with only muscle degradation and about a day’s worth of memory missing. Dash had lost the whole week.  
  
The limping, stumbling trip back through the now perfectly opaque forest had ended with Tucker calling an ambulance and Danny swooping off to hide in a tree and eat some bread nabbed from the local grocer’s. He hadn’t be able to phase back until that morning, growing dizzy and fatigued every time he tried it.   
  
Whatever that ghost had been, it had done a number on him.  
  
Tucker and Sam were both grounded for breaking curfew to go “hiking”, but Danny was safe when he returned to his room and finally detransformed just before sunrise. Apparently Kwan was already regaling social media with his tale of being kidnapped by an actual ghost. Tucker was at pains to remind him that he couldn’t actually remember any of it.  
  
Dash and Kwan returned to school three days later with deep bags under their eyes and double the popularity they’d had before. Their story had morphed rapidly, going from a simple kidnapping to fighting off a hoard of poltergeists singlehandedly to save Sam, Tucker, _and_ Phantom from being eaten. Danny marvelled at the reputation they were giving his ghost persona; Phantom went from ‘malevolent entity’ to ‘local superhero’ over the course of a single lunchtime.  
  
The days were warming up again, and the whole of Amity Park was grateful for the end of the chill. News weathermen were at a loss to explain the ‘strange phenomenon’ that had been affecting them, but eventually chalked it up to climate change and a single freak low-pressure cell.  
  
The day after they got back, Dash called out to Danny as he was making his way to homeroom.   
  
“Hey, Fen-turd!”  
  
Danny turned awkwardly. “Yeah?”  
  
“Is it true your friends know Phantom?”  
  
A bit lost for words, Danny shook his head. “Dunno what you mean.”  
  
“I _mean,”_ Dash slowed down his speech mockingly, “is it true Manson and Foley know the ghost kid?”  
  
Danny almost laughed at this. Less than a week ago, Dash had almost spilled his secret, and now here he was asking him for details about Phantom.   
  
“Do _you_ know him?” Dash persisted, filling the gap Danny’s thoughts had left.  
  
“Nah,” he replied with a grin, turning and making his way back down the corridor. “Never met the guy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooo! Chapter 4!  
> This is one of only two non-one-shot fics I've ever actually finished (sorry to everyone following Universe Slip and Pagan, I _promise_ I'll get them done eventually), so I'm actually pretty proud of it. This chapter is the second half of "Insects" and the whole of "Full Moon", which is where I got the inspiration for the semi-circular narrative.   
>  Thank you again to everyone who's commented and left kudos! You're all the best. Enjoy Ectober!


End file.
